


What'cha gonna do (when you play with danger)?

by TheUnlikelyOne



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Canon Divergent, Cure, Electrocution, M/M, Materia, Rude uses the EMR, Side Story, Turks (Compilation of FFVII), a damn lot of smooching, a fucking lot of swearing, a lot of graphic violence, adrenaline makes them horny, broken Rude, by the skin of their teeth, loss of a finger, see you later partner, shot to the head, some smut too, sturm und drang, they care so much for each other, they find horrible ways to show it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:28:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29849826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnlikelyOne/pseuds/TheUnlikelyOne
Summary: The boys are pretty stuck, this time.Because, you see, Rude has a weakness. A big weakness. That can screw things up a fucking lot.Thankfully, Reno is a consummate professional. And he performed in a circus, before joining the Turks. Maybe.A side story set in that endless pocket of time (amounting to 10 minutes, really) between the end of BC and the start of FF7. It's canon divergent for permanent modifications to the characters.This thing was born out of my obsession with Brilcrist's gorgeous, heartwrenching art. It started out as a quick drabble, that later evolved into the following 6-chapter monster.Since it was plotted before the publication of the second part of the art, it takes a divergent path.And yes! I'm a slow simmer.BE WARNED for very graphic depiction of sheer violence, abundant profanity, and some smut too.
Relationships: Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. A step short of heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brilcrist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brilcrist/gifts).
  * Inspired by [See you later partner](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/770775) by brilcrist. 



“Not so arrogant anymore, brat?” The man laughs, hard, as Reno falls on his knees, then kicks him in the back sending him sprawled on the tan tiled floor.

Through the cracked sunglasses, the world is a jigsaw of shadows and light.

If Reno’s down as well, matters start to become. Tangled up. You pant, trying to get your body to cooperate, but a dizzy head can’t really control beaten up limbs.

On the ground. A dangerous position to be in. Above your face the ceiling is dirty; thick, dusty cobwebs hang at the corners of the room. This must have been the kitchen, when the apartment was occupied. A long time ago.

It was a trap since from the start.

The man laughs again, nudging Reno's side with the tip of his well polished shoe. An ordinary black shoe, an ordinary dark suit. An ordinary man, average build, hair greying at the temples.

The heaviest hands you've ever met. Privy to all the sensitive points of a body. At least yours.

You roll on the side, meet Reno’s eyes; he frowns, an unspoken question. You shake the head once, then a nod forward. You’re good to go. Provided you can reach a standing position, which you wouldn’t take for granted.

Reno nods as well, pulling himself up, hands splayed on the dirty tiles; but his arms tremble too much, giving way under his weight. You tense, bend your limbs, at least you can try to-

"You, scum over there!" the man barks, pulling a gun from his belt and pointing it at Reno's head. "On your feet, slowly. One wrong move and the redhead is gone."

A jolt inside. It would have been easier, if that barrel was aimed at you.

He knows it.

Reno's gaze slides across your face. "Go with it," you read on his lips. The ghost of a smirk. He seems too confident for someone in his position. But it's easier, when it's yours the life at stake. You can evaluate risks, take decisions. A different matter if your actions set someone else's fate.

You shake the head and roll on fours; stand up, searching the wall for support, feeling like you've been run under a press. You got weak, unable to take even a few beating. You should bolt there right now, snatch the gun from the man’s hand, thrust it in his mouth and send him back to hell where he belongs. But that gun is aimed straight at Reno. So you. Just go with it.

For now.

The man's lips curl into a smile.

"Very well! Now, fingers locked and hands behind the head."

You bend the neck and obey.

The man takes a step sideways, his foot against Reno's waist, slips his left hand into the pocket of his well cut slacks. "Nice of you, bad boy. I wonder what's your owners’ use of a down-at-the-heels duo like you."

It makes you cringe, so true. Stuck. Weak. No backup for Reno, this time.

"And who the fuck are you, I wonder?" Reno's voice sounds. Off. Your jaw clenches. The voice of someone held at gunpoint. You'd scream in frustration. Used as you are, to be at the correct end of a weapon. Today tables got turned. Just the short pull of a finger between Reno and.

Death.

"So curious, little shit; it will get you in trouble." The man laughs. What you'd need is just a slip, a chance to get your hands on him, and feel his neck crack under your fingers. But he's looking straight at you, while gloating. "I'm someone who goes unnoticed, and it gives me lots of room to do whatever the fuck I want. Unfortunately for you lost boys, your owner is a fine observer."

"And?" Reno presses on, moving by inches, aligning his sprawled body. That damn smirk of him gets deeper, you've never seen it waver. Ordinary man seems unaware, his dark eyes gleam with satisfaction. 

“He noticed me, and sent you with a message I dislike. But in my world, people like you die.”

Reno snickers. “Ooh. Quite the monarch, you are.” 

“Shut the trap, bitch!” The man kicks Reno, hard, in the tender flesh of his side; he curls on himself, teeth gritted. It usually works, not with Ordinary. His eyes don't avert from you long enough to make a move. Any move. “Maybe I should gag you, you’re as annoying as a thorn in the ass.”

“Same. Goes for you.” Reno pants. At it, once more. You think to his EMR, lying in the corner behind your back, where it has rolled during the fight. When you were still convinced that this was going to be an easy one. Meet the nuisance, discuss, go back to the headquarters. Beat him some, if needed. Quite unlike, as it turned to be.

Just a flick of your arm, to get the mag rod. Just a pull of the trigger to kill Reno. Now.

You snarl, under the tight scrutiny of the man's dark eyes. Ordinary kicks Reno again, grinning in your face; he lets out a strangled cry, hands pressed on his offended flesh, a tight black knot of pain on the tan floor.

Staying still, while he hits Reno, takes all your resolve. Yet bruises are fixable, a pierced brain usually isn’t. It won't take him half a thought to shoot Reno, if you do the wrong move. Not keen to try him. Your jaw stiffens to new levels.

Up to your chin in Deepshit. No protocol to apply to wade through it. Protocols speak of operatives, Reno's been your partner since forever. His life’s not the variable of an equation. 

He's your greatest weakness to exploit.

"Baldie! On your knees." Ordinary's going at it full force.

You obey. The tiles are hard and cold. Deepshit just got deeper. Reno's still curled up on the floor, writhing, holding his sore side.

The man taps his back with the tip of the shoe. "Quit wiggling like a goddamn worm!"

"It hurts." Reno whines, rolling sideways, hitting Ordinary's leg hard with his shoulder. You hold your breath. This might be the-

The shot echoes loudly in the narrow space.

You. Freeze. 

Not able even to call his name.

Reno screams, jolts, curls up tightly clutching his right hand. Blood trickles between his fingers. Jaw clenched; his eyes blaze scorching hatred, as he raises the face to look at his torturer.

“Next one’s to the head," he barks, kicking Reno again, knocking him onto his stomach. Reno's arm falls limp to his side, hand in full view, at last. Bleeding. A damn lot. Most of the pinky is gone.

You'll kill the dipshit. You just need a chance. Good enough to make sure you won't fail.

Reno.

“Will you stay put now, you goddamn fucker?” the dipshit growls and stomps a foot on the side of Reno's head, pinning him to the ground. Then he bends down to press the barrel hard against Reno’s skull. Reno blinks, trying to regain focus; blood runs from his nose, gathering in a small puddle under his cheek. In the deep silence that follows, you hear the rustle of the gun scraping his scalp. 

A wave of cold, flooding your body, then suddenly hot and muscles ready for action. Now.

Fool.

Reno will be dead before you even reach him.

“Lost boys are pretty stuck, huh?” The man grins.

Reno doesn’t reply, just keeps looking at you, sprawled gracelessly on the dirty floor. A salvo of red smears under his twitching fingers.

Defeated.

And so are you. Nailed, although no foot crushes you to the ground, no gun grazes your skull. But Reno’s skull belongs to your life. And this puts him further in danger. You can't think sharply, when so much is involved.

While you should.

If you want to haul your asses out of here, whole.

“Imagine the President's face when he finds your heads in the mailbox.”

This makes things final. You close your eyes for a moment, to evade the sight of the barrel buried in Reno's bright hair. But you keep seeing it, on the black screen of the lids. His blood, splattered on the tiles, eyes rolling back, breath shuddering to a halt.

Stop this, it hasn’t happened, yet.

It won’t, you will have your word on the matter. Soon.

But if you try to count your options, you end up with none. Any move, no move, the same output.

Reno’s death.

Now. Or later. And while you’d be probably quick enough to grab the mag rod, lying behind your back, and save your life, it’s an option you can’t contemplate. Surviving at Reno’s expense. If so, you will go down together. As you've been for the past decade.

Ordinary glances down at Reno. “Anything remarkable to say, bitch?”

You’d give your own life, and it may be necessary, to drown the dipshit‘s smile in blood. To free Reno from his grasp. You just have to move, to break this enforced stillness. That will just postpone the unavoidable end. Yet you can't come to terms with the possibility that bad timing will cause your partner's death. This way, your indecision will.

Stuck. Both of you.

Reno purses his lips. The man laughs. 

“I was hoping for some memorable last quote from you: you were so witty, earlier. But you're already broken, and I'm getting bored. It's farewell time for the lost boys. I just have to choose who goes first. Indecision kills me."

Reno looks at you through half-closed lids, messy red locks hide most of his face. His bloody lips are parted in the effort of breathing. As you open the mouth to volunteer. To buy him some time.

"Start. With me. I'm closer,” he snarls.

No fucking way.

"That's brilliant, slut. It's deal then." The man grins and pushes the barrel further against Reno's skull.

An icy hand grips your heart, halting it, choking your breath; then your fingers come to life of their own free will, your body betrays the brain's calculations. Nothing more to lose. You steel yourself for the last stand.

Pointless as it might seem.

Reno’s smirk, the one you’re so used to, conquers his mouth once more. He snickers. "See you later, partner." It sounds sweet, it makes you shiver.

Is it. For real? You were ready to spring up, but he freezes you on the spot.

The man shakes his head. An amused smile curves his lips. "You ready, _partner_? Enjoy the sh-"

Reno plants the hands on the ground, coils the legs backwards, his feet hit forcefully the back of the dipshit's knees, throwing him off balance. A split second, an impossible stunt.

A shot rips the air.

But Reno has already rolled away.

Ordinary falls on the ass with a startled cry; you slide sideways and snatch the EMR, discharging on him at max voltage. He convulses and curls up, teeth chattering, head banging hard against the tiles.

A good start.

You run to his side, pin his wrist under the heel, his hand still gripped on the gun. All your weight on that limb, until you hear the bones snap. His gasps break into a loud howl, the weapon slips from his limp fingers.

Reno bends gracefully down and retrieves it, keeping the man under fire as you hit him in the ribs, hard. He writhes on the floor; lets out a stream of hoarse cries, as the toe of your shoe impacts with his side again and again.

This is for the foot on his head, fucker.

For his blown off pinky.

For beating the shit out of him.

And for the cold fear, that had ravaged your insides. You thought you were about to see Reno's last breath.

Worse than breathing yours.

The dipshit trashes around, his howls barely make it through the red fog veiling your mind. 

A hand on your shoulder.

Your foot stops.

Nothing comes to your lips, mouth suddenly dry as Reno's hard angles lean into your body. You were about to lose this closeness, forever. He’s keeping the right hand up, the stump of his pinky, jagged and dark, leaks thick trickles of blood. Drenching his shirt cuff red.

He’s grinning.

You give him the nightstick, get the gun in return.

“Thanks, _partner_ ,” he says, extending his weapon with a flick of the wrist.

The sound of that word in his mouth drives you crazy. You can't possibly live, without him calling you so. You level the weapon on Ordinary; you'd shoot him point-blank, but maybe Reno wants a word as well.

The dipshit stops wriggling and looks up at him, wild-eyed, cradling his broken wrist. His face is ashen white, blood trickles down his chin.

A job well done.

"Please," he mutters trough tight lips.

Reno smiles, baring the teeth, fire blazes in his narrowed eyes. "Well, well, well. Roles got reversed, huh?" He saunters around Ordinary, a shark circling a small boat, swirling the EMR in lazy figures, then plops astride his ribcage. The man lets out all the air with a groan; Reno shoves the nightstick down his throat. Ordinary gags, trying to back away. Pointless. Reno can be persistent.

Fighting to breathe, to utter some words; Reno laughs, retracts his weapon by a couple inches.

“Please,” the dipshit repeats, words slurring around the EMR tip. “Can give you more Gil than you ev-“

"Worth a try." Reno’s lips twist in a cruel smirk . "Too bad it didn't work." He pushes the EMR down again, and flips the switch.

The man arches, so abruptly that Reno gets almost thrown off him. His smirk just deepens; the dipshit writhes under his weight, a cascade of blue sparks erupting from the paralyzed gap of his mouth, along with an acute tune of agony that seems to last forever.

The taser turns off only when the man‘s cry dies to nothing. Reek of singed flesh hits your nose. He relaxes, a thin wisp of smoke coils out of his lips.

"Asshole." Reno hisses, and spits in his face.

You reach out, Reno catches your hand and pulls himself on foot. "Just go there and talk with the fucker, huh? Damnit!" he mumbles, wiping the blood and grime from his face with the shirt. The EMR disappears under the back of his jacket.

Then he finally looks at you. 

"Fuck, Rude," he whispers, eyes wide. "I got you." He snatches the broken shades off your nose, tossing them aside, grabs the lapels of your jacket and impacts against you, pulling you down, a wince and a moan, it hurts burning hell as his bruises meet yours.

His cold lips taste metallic, and bitter, and so much. Reno. The gun falls from your fingers with a loud clang; you bury them in Reno’s tangled hair, damp with sweat, pulling him closer.

He got you. In so many ways.

You close the eyes. You thought you’d never savor him again. A hand down his neck, the graceful arch of his spine.

Reno gasps in your mouth, glued to you when you try to pull back; an arm hooked around your neck, the other hand traces cool patterns on the back of your head, sending a train of shivers down your spine.

“The. Finger?” you try to articulate, but your tongue is too busy sparring Reno's.

He nods. Closes the eyes. “Mmmhh.”

You grab his face and break the kiss, panting. “I have a CureAll in my wristband. Wait just a sec.”

A pull on the frayed ends of your mana, mustering all the strength left. It’s never been easy to cast a spell: it asks for a leap into uncharted territories, where only pure faith is required to be successful. But with Reno it’s easier, he himself is like a wild world, where the unexpected must be expected at any given moment.

The greatest leap of faith you ever took, was towards him.

The soft, warm blanket of the spell wraps you two together. Still clinging to each other, flesh tingling while bruises and wounds mend up.

Reno wriggles in your arms. “Damn good, partner.”

The pain washes away, like waves retreating from the coast at low tide. You keep Reno close, closer; a hand under his shirt, counting the bumps of his delicate spine, the other woven into clammy hair, mouths welded together.

Just a step short of heaven. Where it's hotter.

You’re no angel. Neither is Reno.

Fallen from grace, right into your arms.

The partner of a lifetime. Your perfect place to be. Reno whimpers, presses closer, hips grinding against yours. Cock hard through the slacks, rubbing on your equally hard one.

Fire in your groin, your breath picks up speed, just like Reno’s, just like the dance of tongues in the shared space of your mouths.

It’s Reno who pulls back. “Rude.” His voice sounds strained, his fingers fumble with your belt.

It would be. Satisfying. With the asshole’s dead eyes fixed on you.

You ready, dipshit? Enjoy the show.

But. Your head screams danger. And Reno should know better.

You take a step backwards, catch Reno’s wrists in your hands, so slim. Your fingers encircle them whole. Hard, wiry, spun from steel and diamond under the soft fabric of his jacket. He frowns, pulls his arms out, trying to set free from your grasp.

“Let me see that pinky,” you whisper, forcing his hands to your mouth, kissing the bloody knuckles of his fists. The stump has partly healed, a thin layer of new skin has grown over the wound, stretched and pink. “The asshole blew it off.”

The outraged curve of Reno’s lips softens some. “The skull would have been worse.” A pause, a flicker of anguish in his eyes. “Fuck, Rude. I.” Reno presses the top of his head against your chest. “This was too close. I.” He lifts the face, biting his lower lip, searching your eyes with his. You loosen your hold, Reno’s arms fall limply to his sides. Then he tenses again and snarls, a glint in the corners of his eyelids, teeth clenched. His features crumple for a moment, as if someone were twisting a knife in his guts.

“Damnit! I was shit scared for you, stupid son of a bitch,” he finally spits out.

He. Was?

With a foot on the head and a gun against the skull.

Your face falls slack.

"This is why you volunteered."

Reno's smirk is feral, and enticing, and so bloody smug it hurts. “I knew I had to turn the tables myself. The asshole only had eyes for you.”

“You took a risk. You couldn’t see him from below.” Batshit crazy. If you needed further confirmation.

“But I could see you. Motionless as shit. Quite unlikely of you, partner.” He touches your face; cold fingers against hot skin.

“The _asshole_ had a gun to your head. I couldn’t risk your pretty skull, could I, _partner_?” You put your hand on his, to hold it there, lean the face forward until your noses almost touch.

Reno's eyes crinkle at the corners, when he smiles. "Could. You?" he whispers.

"Fuck, no! I. Was going to volunteer myself. You're always too fast, you jerk."

"The fastest of the Turks." He's smug, again, but it fades quickly. "Your life to buy me some time?"

You're there once more, looking at the barrel buried in Reno's hair, the same cold fear gnawing at your insides. Whatever it would have taken. Ten thousand painful deaths.

But Reno's here and you can slip your hand under his shirt, dig the fingers into the scarce flesh of his side. To keep it real.

"I-"

His chuckle sounds dark; cloudy sea eyes fixed into yours, eyebrows tightly knitted. "Do you think I’d have let you go alone?" A very sweet smile.

The hair on the back of your neck stands up point blank. You close the eyelids, reach blindly for Reno and he's. There.

It's a war of lips and tongues and teeth, of faces crashing into each other at the perfect angle, where all the joints and grooves just. Match. Of hands pulling bodies closer.

A door slams somewhere nearby. The kiss is broken; Reno's EMR appears in his hand, you bend over to retrieve Ordinary's gun. Check the magazine, half empty. Check the body, a full one in the right pocket of the jacket. Lucky day.

You retrieve Ordinary’s wallet from the slacks. Bursting with banknotes. A silver lighter, warm and heavy in your hand, a crumpled box of Yeheuan.

"Those were his lackeys." You hand everything to Reno.

He throws aside the cigarettes, pockets what's left, a slight shake of the left shoulder.

Don't fucking care. "They're already here."

You fish the spare shades from the inner pocket and put them on your nose.

Ready for the next thing.

Reno's face lights up; he turns around, tapping the nightstick onto his shoulder, the way he always does. Slightly turned. Ready to strike. "Take out the rubbish." He snickers, pointing the thumb at the fried corpse at your feet.

"What’s in your mind?" You grab Ordinary by the collars of his jacket and shirt, and drag him to the door. His arms spread out, his knuckles slide on the floor; feet derailed by the deep seams of the tiles.

Reno winks, a mischievous glint in his eyes, four gleaming EM mines appear between his fingers. Reminds you of a juggler, but then there's the black suit. The missing finger. The blood on his shirt. The mag rod tied to his wrist by its thin strap.

He crouches next to Ordinary, sets the mines to remote mode, distributing them evenly into the man's pockets. The nightstick makes scratching noises, rolling on the porcelain. "You'll see. Cover me."

"Needless to say."

You flatten against the portion of wall by the jamb; Reno slides the tip of his rod in the space between the brass doorknob and the wood, and discharges. The air sizzles. Blue sparks burst all around.

Beyond the door a loud yowl, the sound of soles scraping convulsively on the floor. The taser goes off, something heavy falls on the ground.

“Gotcha.” Barely audible.

Reno reaches out and throws open the door.

A cool gust of wind caresses your sweaty face, it smells like fries and onions. Reno peeks out, mag-rod at ready in front of his face. Nothing happens. You're at his side, the gun pointed straight up, scanning the stairwell. How many of these fuckers are still hiding around here?

As many as there may be, you have a job. And that's covering Reno as he pulls the next stunt. Whatever it is.

He crosses the doorstep, shoves aside with a foot the tall guy lying in front of the entrance.

Twentyish, ripped jeans, faded grey sweater. Holey combat boots. His head dangles off the first step, throat exposed; ash blonde hair snakes across the dark linoleum. He’s gasping through parted lips, eyes rolled back. Limbs still quivering.

Reno takes a circular glance, then bends over to retrieve the shotgun that slipped from the guy’s hand. "What would you do, partner?"

A flash of the gun, pressed against Reno's skull.

"Eh." The corners of your mouth curve upwards.

"Thought so." He leans forward, just enough to insert the barrel between the blonde's lips, and pulls the trigger.

The shot roars like thunder.

The back of his head explodes in a shower of blood and bone fragments, his body jerks violently, chunks of brain spill over the lower step.

Reno laughs, shrill and high pitched. He always reads your mind."Pile up the shit, partner.”

You grab Ordinary's collars, raise your arm; for a moment he dangles mid air, head lolling sideways, before you toss him over the blonde. A stack of fuckers.

"Any other asshole in need of a word with us?" Reno yells, looking around. His voice echoes in the narrow stairwell.

No reply. Just a flicker of movement behind the top floor railing. You pull Reno back by his jacket, and shoot.

A swarm of random bullets raises sparkles against the handrail, a scream from above, a body falls through the stairwell, the wet thud of its impact on the ground floor.

"Lost my patience." Reno frowns, shaking the head. "Let's get the fuck outta here." He fishes Ordinary’s wallet from his pocket and extracts the fat wad of Gils, slaps it onto its dead owner’s chest. “Your last paycheck, fuckers. Gotta find a new boss.”

Silence again after his loud words. A silence that. Breaths.

“Gone!” he urges, flying down the stairs. You follow him closely, hand sliding on the wall, scanning around for anyone, anything. 

Footsteps, echoing yours, from the upper floors. Three people get in the open, four stories above, hasting down the steps. Then a couple more, your finger tenses on the trigger.

"Do not bother, partner." Reno keeps his pace.

It would have been satisfying.

When you get to the second floor, Reno gestures towards the banister. No big deal. He jumps first, hands on the railing, makes a somersault and lands on tiptoes, silent as a cat, avoiding by just inches the broken body lying there.You're not allowed such grace, and come down squatting on the floor with a loud thud.

You flatten yourselves against the wall, Reno's clutching the mines remote control. Knuckles white. The sound of footsteps dies to a halt.

"Heh." A smirk, a flash of sharp teeth; Reno's thumb lands on the red button.


	2. The nearest thing to a love declaration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are duties to fulfill, so the boys try to cope with everything that happened.  
> In their own ways.  
> Reno tries to be professional. Rude breaks some rules and that's damn unlikely of him. 
> 
> This date thing is going to his head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY IMPORTANT NOTE: I absolutely _adore_ Devil May Cry 4 theme, it's so badass! But you must be Dante (who never fails to make me wet my panties) to pull it off, not a lame asshole OC.

The roar shakes the building as you’re darting out of the main door. Then total, eerie silence. The whole world halts, turned towards the explosion. 

Only Reno and you are moving, in the still life the street has become.

His steps slow down to a casual stride; you pocket the gun, walking by his side. The spell is broken, cars start to scatter randomly across the street, people fleeting away from the epicenter, harsh honking, confused screams.

You walk on, without looking back, two busy businessmen stained in blood.

Reno sighs as you pass by your parked car, already trapped by the growing lump of vehicles. "No way we'll be able to get home with that."

Home.

The headquarters. Two shared rooms; a shower, to wash away the blood and grime. The stiffness of fear. A good cycle of Materia from a professional. Reno's body against yours, maybe you'll have what's left of the day off.

Damn well deserved, after staring at death's face. So closely that you could have counted the nicks in her damn skull.

"Guess it can't be helped," you grumble back, hooking Reno by the shoulders and pulling him against your side. He leans on you, his arm around your waist.

The right one.

There's something wrong with the way his hand lands on your jacket, a weird feeling against your flesh. You think to the mauled stub of his finger, it's difficult to get over it. Say nothing. Reno's touch is too sweet to spoil it with words.

Two busy businessmen stained in blood, holding each other as if on a date. Reno smiles, all sharp teeth and burning eyes, and he's the farthest thing from a fiancee that you can possibly think of.

Needless to say. He's your partner.

He sticks a cigarette between the lips, rummages in the pockets. Surprise on his face, when his hand comes out holding the asshole's lighter. "What the f-" He scowls at you. "Yeah, uuh. You got me a trophy, partner." He turns it between the fingers, there's a hissing black cat emblazoned on the front, a tiny cursive writing on the back.

Reno raises it at eyes level. A condescending grin, a shrill snicker. You try to read, but it's too small.

"No, really. Choke on your own demise." Another sharp fit of laughter, the cigarette shakes in his mouth, it takes Reno a while to light it up.

"What's that?"

Reno takes a ludicrously long drag, exhales with a sigh of pleasure. "Almost as good as a post orgasmic one." His gaze softens. "Almost."

It's the same look he gives you when he lies, naked. Heavy eyes, pale limbs sprawled amidst the ruins of the bed.

Soon.

He presses the lighter into the palm of your outstretched hand. Doesn't break the contact. Your fingertips trace broken lines on his knuckles.

Reno holds you whole in his gaze. Says nothing. From his shoulder, your hand slides under the ponytail, stroking his nape with the back of the fingers. He presses nearer, enveloping you in his ephemeral cloud of smoke. It's known and safe and.

His hand retreats, he plucks the cigarette off his lips. You have to squint to read the minuscule writing etched in the silver.

_“I tell you I’m the one to survive  
You’ll never break my faith or my stride  
I’ll have you choke on your own demise  
I'll make the angels scream and the devil cry”_

"Pfh. Lame." Sliding the lighter into Reno's pocket.

Reno laughs. "Foreshadowing. The fucker screamed quite some as I fried his guts. After choking on my mag-rod. The irony of it." He bites the cigarette, fishes the lighter again. Examines it closely, scratching the writing with his broken thumbnail. You kiss the top of his head, nose stuck in his smell of exertion and fear.

You feel that he's smiling, though he doesn't look up. Reaches out, as you walk by a trash bin, but immediately retreats the hand, fingers gripping the lighter. Knuckles white.

"I'll light up every damn smoke of my life with this shit," he snarls, raising the face. Cigarette bobbing between his lips. Eyes almost fearful, locking yours behind the shades. Burning holes through your soul.

The way he always does.

His stare hardens, another flicker of anguish.

"I thought you despised it."

He scowls, the lighter gleams faintly on his palm. "It's a reminder." A long pause. "That you can die of confidence."

Is he thinking about the asshole? Or. About himself?

You squeeze his tensed shoulder.

Reno grits his teeth. "Damnit!" He flicks away the half cigarette and turns around, bumping against you, stopping you, grabbing your chin, hard. You shiver at the touch of his cold hand.

He can't stop looking at you.

“You’re _mine_ ," he finally articulates, punctuating each word with a tap of his forefinger against your chest. "And _I_ will beat the shit out of anyone who dares to threaten you. Remember that well."

You frown, slide the shades down your nose, what's enough to look straight at Reno over their frame. "It's mutual. _Partner_." You growl leaning over his mouth, pulling him whole into your arms.

Where he fits perfectly, like you were born for this.

Lips clash together, a war of tongues, harsh breaths, hands clinging to soft fabric and flesh and sharp bones.

Two busy businessmen stained in blood, smooching in the middle of the sidewalk, groping like horny teens. Must be a sight to behold.

But you need to touch Reno everywhere. To be sure that he's in one piece. That no bullet has reached its target, no nightmare has come true.

He hums gently in your mouth. Soft and yielding in your hands. It's always too short. The time to be close.

Because Reno's already tensing up, again; he pulls away, and you know that the time has come.

"I'm calling Tseng," he proclaims with a sigh. His shoulders sag as he dials and puts the mobile to his ear. Another cigarette between those damn inviting lips, the asshole's lighter appears in his hand.

He lights it, sucks forcefully the dark filter; the hollows of his cheeks get deeper, sharp cheekbones sticking out. Tseng's voice crackles from the speaker, but you can't make out the words.

"We are done," Reno replies. A pause. A longer pull on the cigarette. Smoke coils out of Reno's nostrils, bright hair bouncing wildly as he ruffles them. A wince. "The fucker is dead. Most of his thugs, also. All of them would be too much of a blessing."

Tseng again; you bend at Reno level, place your ear on the side of the telephone. He shifts, you can finally make out some words.

_“-talk him to reason.”_

Reno snorts. “He wasn’t there to discuss. Had his lackeys guarding the whole damn building.”

_"- couldn’t you take him in in one piece?”_

Reno's stance stiffens."He put us in a, uhm, uncomfortable position." A nervous snicker. 

_"What are you witholding, Reno?"_

Pause. "We went. Rough? Shot some fireworks. You should send someone over, for damage assessment and cleanup. Maybe they'll find someone alive enough to answer your questions instead of the asshole."

_“Something more than rough, then.”_

Reno snickers, looks at you. You furrow the brows, he just shrugs. “Kinda.”

Tseng's voice sounds aggravated. _“Are you hurt?”_

“It’s a." Reno sighs, scratching his nape. "Damn long story. Can we talk about it when we're back?”

_“Where are you?”_

“Still in sector 1.”

You slip behind Reno, your chest against his back, an arm around his waist. He shifts the mobile and you have access to the speaker again. He keeps on talking, you suck small kisses on the back of his neck. “The car got stu-uck in a jam, we weren’t able to uh recover it-.” Reno wriggles, trying to evade your hold. You press in. “Rude! Come o-on I’m-“ a pause. He drops the cigarette on the sidewalk, grinds it under the boot toe.

Rule number one is never in the open. Rule number two is never while working. You're breaking them all at once. You should be careful, really. You should

But the longing to touch Reno has become a physical ache, after seeing him so far away from you And he was. Unreachable. At the asshole mercy. Already set out on a dangerous path, taking him somewhere you couldn't reach him.

_"What's up now?"_

“Nnh, no, it’s ok, ju-uh-st the big dumbass here.” He sticks the middle finger at you. You grin against his skin. He runs the thumb across his own neck. Gonna slit your throat, motherfucker.

He might be able to do it. Maybe. Just not today. A nib on the earlobe. Small and pointy.

_“There's a car patrolling your area, I’m sending them to pick you up.”_

Maybe Reno has forgotten the rules, too. Or maybe he doesn't give a fuck anymore. Since he leans against you, head tilted up, exposing the neck. The curve of his lips is sweet, as he speaks. You buy the moment, trace his jaw with more kisses. Suck his lobe.

“That would be, ah, good. We’re a bit wasted. Ru-uh-de performed a CureAll, but still."

_"Reno? Are you ok?"_

"Ye-es. I'm peachy, boss. Just this bitch of a-ah rib. Stop it!" he hisses under his breath. You don't stop, run the thumb along the side of his neck.

_“Reno! What's going on?"_

"'Ts ok boss." He elbows you in the waist. You grab his arm, more fabric than flesh in your hold. That soon becomes a caress. Your hand slides under his shirt, stroking soft skin and hard, rippling muscles. Following the thin path of hair down to his crotch. He smiles and nestles into your arms. Tseng's speaking again but you're too far from the mobile.

Too distracted. As your fingers brush under his belt.

“Sure thing. We’re nearby at the moment.” Reno's voice gains some energy. "Yeah, boss. Later."

You raise an eyebrow, as Reno pockets the phone. He rolls the eyes up. "You heard him."

A nod. "He didn't like what he was told."

Reno shrugs. "No one gets that close to my head with a gun and goes away with it."

"Agree." You would have killed the asshole yourself, hadn't Reno rightfully claimed his share of fun.

Reno disentangles himself from your hold, just enough to be able to walk. Now you're moving against the grain. Too many people are trying to reach the explosion site, to see for themselves what happened.

You know, already, so you can get the fuck away.

"Anyway, if you meet that kind of assholes you must snuff them out ASAP. You don't want to know what they've in store next." Reno isn't really smirking. Cold and tensed against your body.

You laugh, to scare off ghosts. "People like you, you mean?"

"What?" Reno frowns at your words. "So I'm an asshole now?"

"No. But it's impossible to keep you down. And no one will ever know what you have in store. Not even me." You hold him tighter, he loosens up some. "You saved our asses with that stunt, partner." You're still in awe, of the way his body flexed and hit. An angry snake.

Reno snickers. "Heh! The loser thought he had me on the ground."

Shiny metal, fiery hair, black shoe. Blood on his lips. You also thought he was defeated. That he had run out of tricks up his sleeve.

Then he struck.

Your lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth. "Never seen anything like that. You're a damn contortionist."

He looks at you, smirking smugly. "I worked in a circus before the Turks."

"It's a joke."

"You will never know." Reno cocks the head and raises a suggestive eyebrow, stopping beside the black logoed car.

For an unlikely long stretch of time, Reno says nothing. Just stares at Midgar unfolding beyond the windscreen, head resting on your shoulder. You relax against the seat, muscles loosening at the hum of the engine.

Then a soft snicker, a shake of the head, a dance of wild locks. Sharp eyes suddenly piercing through your shades. Reno's voice is low as he speaks, choosing words with care. "This partnership thing we, uhm, share, amps things up to a new level of intense." He smirks, comes out all crooked lips and tensed brows .

This is some understatement. "We are FUBAR," you reply darkly, avoiding his gaze.

“You sure?” His head snaps closer. Inches from yours.

“I. Am. I. Stopped reasoning as I saw that gun at your head." You hold your temples, as if that bullet, that never reached his skull, is now back to split yours open. "That’s unprofessional. And damn risky, in our line of work."

Reno's face is dangerously near. A hard hand lands upon your thigh. "Well, I am not, _partner_." He crams all his anger inside that word, and you sense fear, as well, threatening to surface and break his speech. "Dunno if I'd have pulled that stunt for anyone else." Reno tilts the head, scratches the nape of his neck. "And by now we'd be probably wrapped in plastic."

That impossible move. It's the closest thing to a love declaration that anyone could get from him.

You got it.

His whole body, a weapon. Fast, powerful, deadly.

Reno smirks and it's smug, and haughty, furrowed eyebrows, blazing eyes and you like it so much, because it's so much. Reno. You've never seen anyone else smiling like this, in your whole damn life.

He does. He fucking can. He's earned the right to do so. Once more today, was it needed.

Your hand on his cool one. He flips it, his fingers coil around yours."Look, Rude, neither I was reasoning." His eyes into yours, wide and deep, threatening to swallow you whole. "I. Just couldn't take it anymore. The way you looked at me. I knew you couldn't react."

"Why?"

Reno's thumb caresses the hollow of yours, slowly. A shiver down the spine. "Because It'd have been the same for me, if the head were yours. Not keen to risk your pretty skull, as well."

You avert the eyes. "Wouldn't call it pretty."

"Well, _I_ would, dumbass." He wraps your tie around his hand and pulls down, keeping you whole into his gaze. "I missed you so much, I. I wasn't sure I could touch you again."

This is it. He framed the same turmoil, raging inside you too, within a handful of words. He's got power over them, as well.

Reno leans in, his lips finds your open ones; he kisses you breathless, and slow, and deep.

You meet the driver's stunned stare in the rearview mirror, don't even bother to scowl. Just close your eyelids and taste the smoke and exhaustion in Reno's mouth.

All nestled against your side, your arm around his shoulders, your hand deep in his hair, holding him close.

All the way back home.

You though your time by his side was over. Now you can't waste any.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to tweet at Bleed4TheDancer

**Author's Note:**

> They are a troublesome duo. They care so much for each other but find horrible ways to show it. Very sweet ones too. A damn rollercoaster.
> 
> Don't know what to do with them =)
> 
> CLOSING WARNING: as usual, no native English speaker here, and currently lacking any form of beta reading. Please report mistakes to the management, they will be mercilessly dealt with.
> 
> I try to tweet at Bleed4TheDancer


End file.
